


From the Other Side

by Recarmdra



Series: OiYama Week (April 2016) [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Airports, Angst, Character Death, Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, Love at First Sight, M/M, OiYama Week, Oikawa Tooru Wears Glasses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-05-30 03:23:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6406660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Recarmdra/pseuds/Recarmdra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Math tells us three of the most tragic love stories: Tangent lines who had one chance to meet and then parted forever. Parallel lines who were never meant to meet. And asymptotes who can get closer and closer but will never be together - <i>But perhaps the most tragic of all is when you experience all three in one lifetime.</i> This is the story of the long distance relationship of Yamaguchi Tadashi and Oikawa Tooru.</p><p>  <b>Day 1 (4/14): Parallels & Surprises</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	From the Other Side

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first entry for OiYama week! I've been waiting for this, and I can't wait to see the works of others too! I hope that you enjoy this though.

  **Math tells us three of the most tragic love stories:**

 

**_Tangent lines who had one chance to meet and then parted forever._ **

 

 _"Shit,”_ Oikawa couldn’t move. He couldn’t see. He dropped his glasses underneath his seat and he couldn’t risk looking stupid in his business suit by feeling around the carpeted floor. He tried reaching down, subtly as he could, feigning tying his shoelace as a last resort and looking around in the blur— damn, this really was the worst day to run out of contact lenses. The airport was not exactly the best place to be delayed and be stressed by things like this. 

“Um... Excuse me, are you looking for this?” 

The brunet looked up and saw a figure standing across him. He definitely couldn’t make out what the person looked like, but he could tell it was a guy by the sound of his voice and the blurred figure, and he could tell by the color of the object he was holding out that it was  _exactly_ what he was looking for.  His squinting eyes widened, taking the glasses from the stranger. “Yeah! Thanks.” He saved him from looking even stupider, in a way. Putting them on was a relief; as much as he hated his glasses, Oikawa hated not being able to see much more. 

“Ahh, much better,” He sighed. Finally looking up at the stranger, what he found was a freckled brunet wearing a kind smile. There was a certain youth, and a certain maturity in him that he saw. When their eyes met, he felt something tug at his heart. 

“I was sitting across you and saw you drop your glasses. It was on your left,” The stranger pointed out before meekly chuckling. And that sounded like angels  _singing_ to his ears. Weird. “You should be more careful with your glasses if your eyesight is that bad... it wouldn’t be good if you lose them again.”  

Oikawa had to pull himself together before the other begins to think he was going to stare all day counting his freckles. He ran his fingers through his hair, putting on an effortless smile, “I’ll try not to— I don’t wear it often so I’m a little careless with them. I hate wearing these things. Looks nerdy.” 

He saw the male tilt his head to the side by a bit in confusion. “I think it looks good on you though?” And Oikawa’s brow rose at the comment. Realizing what was said, the stranger suddenly turned a dark shade of red, waving his hands in front of him. “W-Wait, I mean— t-that didn’t— sorry— I-I’m not trying to—” 

“Pft—” The brunet found himself laughing at the other’s embarrassment, and to be honest, he found it quite cute. “It’s fine, it’s fine! Thank you, I guess.” A smile remained on his lips as he examined the male still standing in front of him, stiff and flushing. He has always been good at reading people— and it looks like he wasn’t the only one who was interested. He had the need to know everything about him, he decided. He confidently held out a hand. “Oikawa Tooru.”

Smiling coyly, the stranger’s hand reached for his hand and shook it. It was a little firmer than he expected. “Yamaguchi Tadashi.” 

“Would you like to sit with me?” He tested, very easily offering. 

He saw the way the other’s smile twitched, trying not to make it too wide.  _Cute_. “Yeah, sure.”

When Yamaguchi returned with his own luggage, it didn’t take too long before he got comfortable with him at his side. The hour certainly had not gone to waste after talking so much about themselves— Well, Oikawa did much of the talking; in the end, Yamaguchi was still unavoidably shy around a stranger, but still shared what he could. Oikawa learned that Yamaguchi was two years younger than him, and was headed to Hong Kong for a business trip before coming back to Japan. He’ll still be  _literally_ on the other side of the world of where he would be living for the rest of his life.

In a span of an hour, they spoke of so many things from family to friends, from school to work — and maybe he was imagining it, but he just _knows_ that there was a spark between them. He hoped the other “imagined” it too. They wanted to know more about each other. They wanted to spend more time together.  _And yet—_

“Ah. Boarding is in five minutes,” Yamaguchi was looking at his watch, worrying at his lower lip. He knows he has to go whether he wanted to or not. He stood up, and tentatively gripped at the handle of his luggage, his other hand reaching for the back of his neck. Oikawa followed the suit, because he had to leave too. “Um... I guess this is goodbye. It was nice meeting you, Oikawa-san.” 

“Yeah, it was nice meeting you too, Yama-kun. Take care in Hong Kong.”

“You too, there in America. Good luck.” 

Oikawa nodded, and hesitantly, Yamaguchi began to walk away with the other watching his back. He sighed.  _Why did they only meet now?_  Why couldn’t have met in high school or even college? A time when they can be… _together_. He saw something in Yamaguchi — and they could really get along if they had more time. He still wanted to know more about him. He  _needed_  to know more about him.

Can he leave it like this?

“Yama-kun!”

The freckled male turned around without a second thought when he heard the other call. On the other hand, Oikawa was still recovering from the fact he instinctively yelled for the other in the middle of the airport, and attracted unwanted attention. Clearing his throat, Oikawa approached the younger man, whilst ignoring stares and giggles (although he is quite used to it ever since, really), and brought out his business card, holding out for the other to take. 

“Let’s talk again.” 

Yamaguchi blinked in surprise upon seeing the business card, and hastily brought out his own from his pocket. It was a little strange that they were exchanging contacts formally in such a casual setting, but he found it amusing nonetheless. He smiled as he traded business cards with the older. 

“L-Let’s get along from now on.”

And from there, Oikawa could say that he flew to America without any regrets, keeping the freckled man’s contact safe in his wallet. Perhaps until that moment they met, they didn’t believe in love at first sight — but that was exactly what happened when he met Yamaguchi.  

It was a shame they would live at the opposite ends of the world.

 

  **_Parallel lines who were never meant to meet._ **

 

Oikawa contacted Yamaguchi once he finally settled in his apartment in New York. He didn’t forget him, and fortunately, the other didn’t either— They’ve constantly talked over this and that, day or night, and it lasted for three months until Oikawa considered taking their friendship to the next level.

Just like love at first sight, Oikawa didn’t think long distance relationships could work out for a guy like him. Even people who knew him were surprised at what he’s gotten himself into. Two people who like each other but can’t meet, where is the fun in that? Being in a relationship with a person who can’t be by his side—it was such a waste, they said, because Oikawa can get any person that he desired; someone who was physically  _there_. His ego agrees, and Yamaguchi himself agreed too along with all insecurities he had.

Like any relationship,  _trust_  was the foundation to sustain—and in theirs, they would need a  _lot_. They know how difficult and how bittersweet a long distance relationship would turn out to be, and the sacrifices needed to be made if they don’t want to end with broken hearts. They considered it, and yet they still pursued. They tested the waters of what it would be like. If they can. If they should.

But finally being in a relationship with Yamaguchi was everything Oikawa thought it to be anyway: simple and happy. How can he  _not_  be with him? Yamaguchi who always called in good days or bad ones; who always listened and always understood. Yamaguchi who would always smile like his day was made when they see each other. Yamaguchi who never grew tired of him whining. Yamaguchi who was always thinking of him. It was strange, because out of all the relationships he’s ever had in his life, it was with Yamaguchi, who has only been with him once, he felt as if he was always there and loved because of the little things he does.

The longer they were together, the deeper they’ve gotten themselves into their relationship—and the deeper they went into their happiness, the more they realized how _painful_ it was.

It definitely hasn’t been smooth sailing for the two of them for the past months. They’ve already had their fair share of faults and arguments; jealousy, doubt, and desperation— they’ve experienced what most couples do at this point—but maybe in a more frustrating way, he supposed. Many don’t understand the feeling. They could see their face when they’re happy and when they fight, and hear their voice when they laugh and when they cry...but they can’t take in their  _scent_ , and they can’t  _touch_  the softness of their skin, or embrace them when they need it the most; they can’t  _taste_  the sweetness of their lips, or the saltiness of their skin.

They’re right in front of the other, but separated by a thousand miles. They’re so close, yet so far.

It was frustrating. Difficult.

Oikawa was always reminded of a story he once read when he would think about how their relationship was going, **three tragic love stories** — however, Oikawa never liked thinking their love was tragic.

People were right about long distance relationships though - but it wasn't difficult only because they couldn't kiss, or cuddle or sleep together. It was as simple as wanting to be there with them, wanting to hold them in their arms when times get rough, to comfort them, and actually _be_ there beside them - and he felt that need so much that it already  _hurts him_  that he can't do it. It’s  _painful_ — and for many eyes, they have every reason to break up. _Had_ they only wanted to among everything. _But they don't._ It was decided that they have to endure it until they meet again. They like to believe their relationship was worth it.

It’s been like this for a year and a half now.

And if that wasn’t amazing, Oikawa doesn’t know what is.

 

“Did you sleep well?” The brunet asked, adjusting the lamp to be better seen in the screen. It was already seven in the evening; and eight in the morning where Yamaguchi was.  

“Mm.” The other smiled sleepily. Oikawa always found it cute. “I dreamed of you.”

“Really? What did you dream about?” The brunet placed his chin over his hand, smiling playfully.

Yamaguchi hummed, trying to recall parts of his dream. “You were waiting for me at a ramen shop in Sendai for a date...” A pause. “But you were wearing a horse mask.”

This threw the older off balance, falling out of his palm. “Whaaaaaat.” He was expecting some sort of wet dream— and Oikawa looked  _horrified_   _(_  that would be a nightmare, wouldn’t it !? _)_ holding the frame of his laptop and even shaking it slightly. He could hear Yamaguchi laughing over the other side. “A horse mask!? How can you even tell it was me under that that, huh!?” 

“I just  _know_.” The other reassured, that cheeky smile remaining on his lips. “I was thinking of you before going to bed.” 

“Hmm, really,” He placed his chin over his palm again, looking unimpressed, “... Then why do I have a horse mask?”

“I fell asleep during a horse movie. Sorry.”

The grown man frowned. “How mean, Tadashi! I’m not sure if I wanna ask if we did something with me in that,” When he considered it, he gave an accusing look towards Yamaguchi.

“No, no! We just talked,” The other denied with a laugh in his voice, and they laughed harder when Oikawa pretended not to believe him.  _Fine, he’ll let him off_. He could see Yamaguchi innocently grinning at him, bed head and all. How he wished he could brush off those stray hair from his face, and kiss those lips.  _One day_ , he always told himself.  

“...I want to see you, Tadashi,” Oikawa softly said. “ _So_ much.” The brunet already lost count on how many times he has said this to the other, and how he wished his schedule and budget would allow him to visit Japan. Living in America was difficult; everything was too busy, too expensive. It felt as if the forces of nature were keeping them from seeing again.

“I know Tooru... ” The other said, and in a beat, he added, “Which is  _why_ —” 

Brown eyes blinked. Usually it ended at “I know” or “me too”, because neither of them could afford to leave the country, and so the phrase had caught him off guard. He could feel his heart racing in expectant anticipation, as the other pulled out a long piece of paper. He couldn’t make out most of the words printed on it except for the logo of a familiar airline company printed on the left hand corner.  

Oikawa was almost at a loss for words.

“Is...that...”

“Tadaaaa! My plane ticket to America!” The other finished, already beaming with excitement.

“W-When?!”

Yamaguchi snickered, “Next month! You said you have a mandatory leave, right?”

Oikawa sank in his seat, a mix of disbelief and excitement evident on his face.  _A plane ticket to America._  Yamaguchi was coming to America. They were going to  _meet_ , even for a little while. He could feel tears welling at the corner of his eyes just from imagining it, and he can already tell how he would be on the  _actual_  day. He looked back up at the camera after it finally sank in.

“This is great! For how long? Did you book a hotel? You know you can stay with me right? Ahh, you know, we should— _fuck_ — I mean, no, I mean  _yes_ , we should fuck,  _definitely_ , but that wasn’t what I was—aah!” The brunet had to stand up from his seat, pacing back and forth before pausing in front of the monitor. “You’re going here! Tadashi! I can’t believe it!” Even his train of thought didn’t function at the thought of Yamaguchi coming to America, already thinking of places where he could take him, things they could finally try together and whatnot—  

The freckled male was laughing at the other line, obviously thrilled at the reaction he got from his boyfriend. It was more than he hoped for, and he could feel less insecure about their relationship. Oikawa was genuinely happy.

Leaning back down, Oikawa saw the other look at the wall and jump in surprise. "Oops—sorry I have to cut our conversation short, Tooru. I gotta go, or I’ll be late for work.” He began to gather his things sprawled on his desk, and leaned in closer to the screen with a smile. “I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

“Alright! Take care, Tadashi. Love you.”

“Love you too. Goodnight!”

And they ended their call.

It would probably nice, they thought, to hear them say _“I love you”_ when they finally meet.

* * *

The wait for Yamaguchi ‘s flight was almost agonizing; both of them wished the day would go faster, and their nights would be shorter just so they can finally meet again. Every other day, they would talk of what they’ll do (“I’ll definitely take you to Central Park! We’ll have a picnic!”) and who they’ll meet (“I’ll introduce you to my friends here! They’ll be thrilled!”) Oikawa and Yamaguchi seemed to have everything planned out; they won’t waste a moment—because every second counts. 

When the day of Yamaguchi’s flight finally came, the couple was completely restless. What seemed like forever had already reduced to a few hours.  

“—Oh! We’re boarding now.” Yamaguchi looked down at his phone where Oikawa was staring back at him with tired eyes, and a tired smile. The guy barely had any sleep last night because he claimed that all he could think of was his trip to America. He had difficulty too, but he supposed he got it better than the older.  

“Alright. This is it.” The other spoke. “I’ll wait for you at the airport, okay?”

“Okay.” Yamaguchi nodded. “I’ll see you.”

“I’ll see you.”

…

…

“I-I’ll see you.” Yamaguchi repeated with a chuckle, cheeks pink and warm.

Oikawa’s smile widened. “I’ll see you.”

…

…

“I’ll…hang up now, Tooru.”

The other holds back a laugh. “Mhm.”

…

…

“I don’t know why, but I can’t hang up.”

The other raised his brows with an amused smile, and Yamaguchi could see the other doing that pose his boyfriend does whenever he was being cheeky. “Maybe it’s because you haven’t said  _I love you_  yet?” Yamaguchi scrunched his nose, an evident blush across his cheeks as he shook his head in jest.

“No, I don’t think that’s it.”

“I’m just trying to throw out suggestions here,” The older held up his hands playfully. “But it wouldn’t hurt to say it anyway!"

Yamaguchi chuckled with a slight shake of the head. “How about…I say it when I get there.”

“Really?”

“Yup. I promise. The next time I say it, it’ll be right in front of you.” The freckled man placed a hand on his chest.

“Fine, fine,” Oikawa sighed in defeat—though the idea does appeal to him—before grinning at his lover. “Go already! They might leave you behind!”

“Okay!” Yamaguchi laughed, finally standing up from his seat and grabbing for his luggage. “I’m coming for you, Tooru!”

“Go, Tadashi!”

* * *

 

Oikawa was restless waiting.

He came too early, he thinks—it was still less than an hour before the plane lands, and he supposed it was because he was too excited. He played with his phone, at times checking the itinerary they planned together. He was waiting at a seat in the corner near where he was supposed to see Yamaguchi walk out from; time was seriously too slow, but it still does pass. At one point, he stopped looking at the clock—maybe it time will fly faster if he doesn’t look—and more than once he thought sleeping was the most tempting way to pass the time considering how little sleep he had gotten—

“Tooru!”

The familiar call makes the brunet’s eyes snap wide open, and he stood up in an instant—dropping his phone, and everything in his lap—to find where the voice had come from. It was not from the exit where he thought Yamaguchi would be. Left—right—he looked at every direction the voice could possibly come from until— “Ta...” It felt as if the earth stopped when their eyes finally met, and Oikawa felt a euphoria he’s never experienced in his life just from _seeing_ him in the flesh; he had difficulty in swallowing like he had difficulty in taking the sight in. For a moment, he thinks that maybe his eyes were deceiving him, but the next thing he knew, a pair of arms were tightly wrapped around him in his sudden inability to move. 

He gasped at warm feeling, and tried to memorize the sensation.

This is real.

Tadashi is here.

“A-Ah, finally, you’re here,” was the first thing that he managed to choke out, doing well that his voice doesn’t crack.

“Sorry I took so long, Tooru. I-I got caught up in something.” Yamaguchi sniffed into his shoulder. He’s crying—and Oikawa thinks he’s crying too. “But even then, I still have a promise to keep! I’d…I’d swim the Pacific Ocean if I have to, you know—!” 

“Don’t be silly...” Oikawa grumbled, finally taking this chance to wrap his own arms around him. He’s firm, but soft. He’s warm in his arms. He smells like the sea breeze—he never told him he smelled like that—and he tries to ingrain the scent into his mind. He’s holding him tighter, and tighter—he doesn’t want to let go.

“I wanted to see you again no matter what, Tooru.”

Oikawa could feel Yamaguchi holding him tightly too, and he knows he feels the same.

“Me too, Tadashi.”

“...I love you so much.” His voice just barely above a whisper, shaking and sobbing. Yamaguchi was crying harder than Oikawa would have expected, and it does surprise him. He could understand—Yamaguchi did say he has always been a cry baby, and he already knew that himself too. It was heart-warming all the same. He smiled down at the other, wiping the smaller male’s tears away from his freckled cheeks when the other finally looked at him. He’s so beautiful, but—

“I love you so much… I-I should’ve said it before I left… I’m so sorry—”

Something was wrong.

“…Huh?—”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Tooru. I never thought that this would happen.”

“Tadashi—?”

Before he could finish what he would say, a number of people rushed pass them, brushing him from shoulder to shoulder. It was too loud all of a sudden with so many voices talking over him, and Yamaguchi’s voice became more garbled than anything, but he continues to watch him mouth _“I’m sorry”_  over and over. He’s still crying—but it doesn’t look like he was crying from happiness anymore. It’s too noisy. He can’t tell what’s happening. 

“Tadashi, what’s going on?—”

**“—Excuse me!”**

Oikawa’s eyes snap wide open  _again_ at the voice that wasn’t Yamaguchi’s. When he opened his eyes, there was no Tadashi in his arms, only his phone in his hand, and his bag on his lap, sitting right where he had been since he’d gotten here. When he looked to the left, there were media men rushing and carrying microphones, lights, and cameras; and to his right were crying men, crying women, children—

_What’s going on?_

Oikawa stood up and began walking closer to the crowd. His gut told him not to, that he wouldn’t like what he’ll hear and it was best to turn and run away; but he approaches anyway, eyes darting from reporter to reporter. They spoke of one and the same thing. He began to tune out from the world the moment he felt his breath catching in his throat, gasping for air that couldn’t seem to fill his lungs. _“We’re here live at New York Airport, giving you breaking news about the airplane that crashed 11:10 AM today in the Pacific Ocean.”_ It hurts, when all the while, it felt as if his heart was being squeezed. He wanted to believe that wasn’t what he thought it was, but _—_   _“_ _The flight number was SJ112K. It is believed that the plane had a turbine engine failure mid-air, resulting into crashing the aircraft into the Pacific Ocean.”_  Color had already drained from his face, and strength leaves his knees.

This can’t be right. This  _can’t_ be right. Tadashi was just  _here_. He came to him. He  _embraced_  him. He was  _warm_. He was in his arms. It was real. He met him. It was real. It felt real. It can’t be. It can’t.  _It can’t—_

_“According to our source, a search team has been sent to look for any survivors from the incident, and we’re hopeful that—”_

His vision blurs from tears, and his knees finally gave way. He can't hear any more of this.

The airport noise and bustle continues, and he hears loud, mournful cries from those who lost the people they love.

Including his own.

 

**Math tells us three of the most tragic love stories:**

**Tangent lines who had one chance to meet and then parted forever.**

**Parallel lines who were never meant to meet.**

_**And asymptotes who can get closer and closer but will never be together.**_

 

Oikawa never liked to think their love story was tragic _— but that would be a lie now, wouldn’t it?_

**Author's Note:**

> Hello from the other side.
> 
> Thank you very much for reading! I don't write a lot of sad things, so I hope that I was able to get feelings across in the story... Tomorrow, hopefully I can post another story for the Day 2 prompt, so please watch out for that! Have a nice day!


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